I’ve been hearing a chainsaw all week. Where I live, trees outnumber people a million to one (okay, maybe a slight exaggeration) and because they tend to shed large branches, randomly topple over, or grow too close together, the roar of a Stihl in full gear isn’t an unusual sound. But then my husband received a text from a neighbor a few houses down who explained he’d hired a chainsaw artist to work on one of his trees. I realize the words “chainsaw art” don’t seem to go together, but up here it’s a thing. . .like ranch dressing and deep-fried cheese curds. Even so, we were curious and our neighbor encouraged us to take a look, so we wandered over to investigate.

Scaffolding surrounded an old dead tree in the yard and a man stood on the top of the makeshift platform. Sawdust rained down like confetti and as the chainsaw blade connected with the wood, I was a little awestruck by the artist’s confidence. If I make a mistake, at least I can hit the delete key! While we watched, a rough shape began to emerge. When we returned later that evening, there was a mature bald eagle perched at the top of the tree, proudly holding a fish.

It was still a work in progress, but suddenly I no longer saw a dead tree. The artist had taken what most people would have chopped down and used for campfire wood and created something new.

I thought of all the times in my life that I almost gave up on something. . .or someone. The times when I couldn’t see beyond what I could see.

And then God would whisper, Wait. Let me show you what I can do.

I’ve mentioned that my word of the year is NEW.

One of verses that has become what I call a “holy echo” over the past few months comes from Isaiah 43.

“Forget the former things,

do not dwell on the past.

See, I am doing a new thing!

Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?

I am making a way in the desert

And streams in the wasteland.” (NIV)

I admit, whenever I read the verse, I skimmed over the first two lines. I’m anxious to get to the part where God promises that He’ll guide and provide.

But in this journey of faith, God has something for me to do, too.

Don’t dwell on the past.

Look.

Listen.

In response, this what God promises and it carries the full weight of who He is.

I AM. . .doing a new thing.

I AM. . .making a way.

But. . .what if THE NEW THING feels risky? What if THE WAY isn’t comfortable? What if it looks messy? Pieces of my life, my plans, my dreams, sloughing off and falling to the ground? I’m not sure I want the new if it involves rickety scaffolding and sawdust in my eyes.

But the times I felt God reshaping my life—stepping down from several ministries I loved and stepping into my solitary office to write, facing an empty nest, moving to the lake, the book contract that didn’t come—I’ve discovered “streams” in those wilderness seasons. Paths that take me to places I wasn’t sure I wanted to go, but God met me there and the result was something beautiful.

And that’s one of His promises, too.

“For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago.”(Ephesians 2:10 NLT)